


Waiting For the Next Train

by little_shinra



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mute Koujaku, References to Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8648785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_shinra/pseuds/little_shinra
Summary: "You're waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you [can't] know for sure. Yet it doesn't matter, because [you'll] be together."-Inception





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tintenfisch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tintenfisch/gifts).



> No, this is not an Inception AU, as awesome as it would be. *hides it in a jar* ^^; The quote just felt very fitting for the story.
> 
> Happy Holidays to herrtintenfisch, who is my giftee for the DMMD Secret Santa event. Heard you like KouAo, so I jumped at the chance to write for it. Hope it's to your liking.
> 
> Just a heads up, I barely know how exactly Japanese train stations work (Youtube videos can only get you so far), so I filled in with pieces of how the BART stations in my area work. Pardon for any inaccuracies I make.

Aoba couldn’t feel the cold in his legs anymore. His numbed nerves dulled the pressing chill of the concrete bench through his pants. He pulled his surgical mask down, inhaling the frigid air. His nose and throat dried, and he breathed out a white cloud. Koujaku slept on his folded legs and cradling hand. Aoba had his fingers slipped under the man’s scarf, stealing his body warmth to encourage feeling back in the digits.

Aoba glanced down the platform. Through the winter haze, the distant form of a train crawled across the tracks. An automated voice spoke through the speakers.

“[Approaching: Sunrise Express route via Nagano. Please stand clear of the platform. Sunrise Express route via Nagano.]”

A bell dinged along the train’s approach, its front light shining through the falling snow. Aoba leaned down, kissing Koujaku on the temple and gently shook him.

“Koujaku, wake up. Train’s coming.”

The older man shifted and rose upward without opening his eyes. He leaned against Aoba as Aoba unfolded and swung his legs to awaken the limbs. Aoba waited before standing and looping his arms into the straps of his duffel bag. Koujaku stretched, ran a hand through his auburn hair, before picking up his own luggage.

The incoming train light shone over the platform and onto them. Koujaku averted his head to save his eyes from the brightness. Aoba stared at the red and yellow of his eyes, mind falling back to an uneasy memory, before a touch to his face snapped him back to the present. Koujaku stood before him, back of his fingers brushing his cheek.

‘Are you okay?’

His eyes told him. Aoba gave his head a shake and reprimanded himself.

_Get ahold of yourself._

He adjusted his coat and looked back at Koujaku. The latter gave a questioning stare as Aoba closed the distance and touched his face. Aoba gently brushed the pad of his thumb under the bloodied eye. Koujaku’s hand engulfed his. He nuzzled it against his cheek, lips pecking the palm. Aoba’s ears burned and took his hand back, guiding Koujaku’s by the fingers.

“Hi-hippo,” he mumbled. Then more clearly, through his returned mask, “Put on your glasses.”

He shifted his bag and led them down the platform to the waiting train. They counted the numbers on the train cars before boarding. Long stretches of connected bunks separated into two levels, with open wooden dividers and curtains for privacy among neighbors. The two made a straight path down the car, keeping their gazes on the private rooms at the end. Koujaku spotted their assigned room and led Aoba in. Aoba shut the door and took the mask off, shoving it into his coat pocket.

They requested one of the twin compartments, rather than share in one of the open seat bunk levels with the fellow passengers. If not just for the privacy from the stares at their appearance, then for the security that maybe, they can keep others from becoming like them. Whatever it was that made them this way.

They still didn’t know the cause of their metamorphosis. Aoba woke one morning and noticed strands of his hair had turned white. Then he started losing color on his skin. He no longer held even the colors of his hazel eyes. Just stone white, like a statue.

The train started moving as they settled themselves for the trip. Koujaku had other plans than just going to bed and calling it a night. As Aoba stripped off his outerwear, scarf, coat, Koujaku swooped in and embraced him from behind, kissing his hair and trailing lower. He kissed the shell of Aoba’s ear, his temple, cheek, then neck, giving the skin a light nibble. It earned him a hitched breath and Aoba spinning to face him.

Aoba grinned, unbuttoning his coat and slipping his hands in. He pulled so their chests touched. Koujaku took his head in his hands, rubbing circles over his cheeks, and brought their lips together. Aoba nibbled and sucked on Koujaku’s lower lip, opening his mouth when a tongue prodded for entry. His head swan and emptied, all he thought was continuing, drowning each other in their embrace, further dive into a world that was theirs and theirs alone.

Aoba was fully engulfed, that when he bumped into the beds, he fell flat on his butt on the mattress. He sat in a daze before giggling. He looked up to Koujaku staring at him with endearment. He bent over and bundled their coats against the wall next to the window. Aoba pulled him over, stealing one, two more kisses before letting him finish. Koujaku adjusted the coat bundles and reclined on the bed, Aoba immediately going into his arms.

With his back against Koujaku’s chest and the latter’s arms wrapped around him, Aoba glanced at the window. He pretended to be looking to the moving scenery outside, focusing on their reflections on the glass.

After Aoba’s appearance changed to the white it is now, Koujaku followed suite. His hair turned red, growing to the long mane he wore back in a high ponytail, his eyes from its original bright red to yellow irises and blood red sclera. Then one morning, Koujaku stopped talking. Tae and other doctors they visited couldn’t find anything wrong.

Aoba smothered the rising urge to start crying again. He already did his tears. There was no reason to cry anymore. What’s done is done…

His brain played it over and over against his wishes.

Waking up to white hair in his hands.

His horrified face as he watched helplessly to his color draining from his eyes.

He became a breathing statue, dead as a ghost.

Koujaku turned blood red, like an oni.

Aoba cried out when those bloodied eyes look his way.

Blood on snow…

Koujaku trying to cut his hair back, finding it fully grown back the following morning.

Snow burying autumn leaves off a tree…

This was his fault…

Aoba dreamed of his hands on Koujaku’s throat.

A heavier weight afflicted his chest. It was all his fault. Koujaku’s changes didn’t start till after his. He didn’t know if he was contagious, so he wore a mask in hopes he wouldn’t spread it to anyone else.

Koujaku leaned forward, enveloping him in a firm hug. Kisses, softer than before, decorated him. Aoba tilted his head back, eyes wide and wet.

“Koujaku…?” Hands tickled up his sides, emitting a startled squeak from him. Aoba squirmed, trying to suppress his laughter. He shoved a hand into the older’s face. “F-frickin’ hi-hippo! Hahaha!”

Koujaku kissed his palm. Aoba’s face flushed beet red from cheek to ear.

“You’re so embarrassing.”

He leaned back against and smiled. Koujaku’s hands returned to his waist, taking one of his hands and tangling the fingers together. Aoba went back to a new thought.

Koujaku was always helping him, being _his_ hero when he was in distress. Comforting him when he woke up crying from that nightmare. He wanted to do more in their present circumstances. Aoba wanted to help _him_ , be the helping hand for once. Even if Koujaku didn't speak again or their appearances never went back to normal, he would stay and make the best to ensure they were happy. That was something they could choose and control. To be safe in one another's embrace in their isolating world.

Aoba burrowed deeper in Koujaku’s arms, pulling them tighter together. He glanced back at the window. Koujaku covered his eyes with his free hand, and he felt him rest his head on his. Aoba bit his lip.

_I am so sorry. I promise, I won’t leave you. Ever. I will do my best to keep you happy. Let me take care of you._

Aoba didn’t realize that Koujaku thought the very same.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said about the trains, I barely know how all of them work. So a number of details were bent for the sake of the story. The train described is an actual night train in Tokyo. You can watch Only in Japan's night train video on Youtube to learn more on it.


End file.
